


sweet talk to me babe, it's magical

by hxe7s



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Constipation, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Smoking, Swearing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, also im real bad at summaries oops, also jingyeom frienship, implied jisoo/jennie, its a mess dont judge, jb and jinyoung are both assholes dont hate, jinjido friendship !!!, platonic jinyoung/jisoo, this was two parts but it got too long so i took out part 1 and made part 2 longer bc why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 14:16:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16019636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hxe7s/pseuds/hxe7s
Summary: He excuses himself and walks out of the restaurant to grab a quick, quiet smoke break away from the constant loud chattering, and pauses as he leans against the glass door outside.He wants to laugh, but, whether out of bitterness or relief, he’d never know. What he does know, however, is that God fucking hates his guts, if the appearance of the man squatting down next to him is anything to go by.My life’s like a k-drama, Jinyoung thinks, peering down at the man, noting the cigarette hanging out of his lips, it’s so fucking cliché.





	sweet talk to me babe, it's magical

**Author's Note:**

> yayeet *ironic whip* so yall know i wrote this fic for got7s eyes on you comeback all the way back in march but my lazy ass didnt finish it until today so i guess its now dedicated to got7s present: you comeback whatevs yolo

 

 

_Sweet talk to me babe, it’s magical._

_Sweet lullaby._

_Oh, it's so hypnotising._

_Sweet talk to me babe, it’s magical._

_I want to hear you sing it every night._

 

***

 

The night sky is clouded. With the moon obstructed, Jinyoung can barely see the torrents in the ocean under the bleak light provided by the dim stars hiding behind the fogs of clouds. He’s sitting on the damp sand, knees up against his chest and arms wrapped tightly around himself. It’s cold.

 

Jinyoung loves the sea.

 

The tide rises and it splashes against Jinyoung’s bare toes. It’s too cold, a chill runs down his spine and he shivers, eyes staring back at the violent waves.

 

He can’t move. The tide is rising again, but he can’t move. It’s rising on him, Jinyoung can feel the iciness of the ocean, of the mouth of darkness coming upon him. It’s going to drown him, and he can’t move. Jinyoung sits still, no limbs responding to the rapid beats of his heart, the warning alarms his mind are blaring in his ears. He watches the oncoming wave, and shuts his eyes in preparation; this is the end.

 

Jinyoung can feel it, can feel the ocean reaching closer, returning him to where he belongs in the cold, in the darkness, it’s about to crash down on him—

 

“Park Jinyoung!” Jinyoung wakes up with a gasp, heart pumping against his chest, loud and threatening. His back is wet with sweat and his lungs lack the much needed oxygen, which he takes in with large gulps as he hunches over himself and buries his face in his hands, knees against chest in a familiar position.

 

There’s incessant knocking at his door. Jinyoung wants to murder his manager. His head hurts like _shit_. Feels like someone is forcefully splitting it open and stuff something else in there.

 

A rustle in his sheets causes the memories from the night before to dawn Jinyoung. Jisoo slowly clambers her way into a sitting position.

 

“Hey,” Jinyoung smiles weakly and drops a kiss on Jisoo’s nose. She groans and gives him a half hearted swat against his shoulder.

 

“Good morning,” she says back after a long stretch and an even longer yawn. The knocking on the other side of Jinyoung’s door intensifies. And so does the pain in Jinyoung’s head.

 

“You might want to get that,” Jisoo mumbles as she stumbles into his ensuite bathroom, hand massaging her temples, cleary still hung over as well. Jinyoung wants to disagree.

 

“Park Jinyoung!” His manager shouts. Holy shit, the guy _needs_ to shut up or Jinyoung’s head will really crack open.

 

“I’m coming!” He shouts back. The volume of his voice hurting his own ears. He trips over his jeans in a haste to get to the door and endless curses tumbles out between his lips as a minimal task such as pulling up a pair of loose sweats proves to be unexpectedly difficult with a pounding headache.

 

“You look like shit,” Doyoung, his manager, offers as he waltz into Jinyoung’s apartment, dropping a small bag of medicine in his hands. He takes another quick glance at Jinyoung’s bare chest and the dark hickeys and red scratch marks that are littered across his otherwise, smooth and even skin, and opens his mouth to say something.

 

He’s interrupted by the shower switching on and his manager sighs instead.

 

“Don’t talk about it,” Jinyoung bites out before his manager could even open his mouth again. Doyoung doesn’t talk about it, but it doesn’t stop the disappointment from showing on his face for a brief second.

 

Doyoung knows. It’s not that surprising. Jinyoung’s not particularly tight-lipped, and as someone who has to constantly drag Jinyoung’s drunk ass back to his apartment after he gets completed smashed and wasted, it would be more surprising if his manager hadn’t ever heard him cry out Jaebum’s name in his sleep, or when Jinyoung breaks down in his drunken stupor.

 

They don’t ever speak about it.

 

Doyoung wolf whistles as he walks past Jinyoung’s bedroom on the way to the kitchen. There are multiple articles of clothing strewn across the floor; Jisoo’s bright red bra standing out in boisterous contrast against Jinyoung’s monotone black jeans.

 

He’s scrolling through his phone while waiting for Doyoung to finish cooking breakfast when Jisoo walks out, clad only in one of Jinyoung’s oversized t-shirts and droplets of water still dripping from the ends of her hair.

 

“Hi Doyoung,” she greets and settles in the seat opposite Jinyoung, “what’re you making?”

 

“Hey Jisoo,” he greets back, “nothing heavy. Jinyoung’s got a shoot in two hours, can’t have him bloating up. Want some?”

 

“Aw yeah!” She cheers. All pearly white teeth on display. “You’re the best! Thanks!”

 

Jinyoung sneaks a small smile behind the rim of his coffee mug.

 

***

 

Doyoung drops Jisoo off at her apartment on the way to Jinyoung’s morning schedule. After Jisoo jumps out of the car and waves at them enthusiastically, the two men fade to silence in absence of the woman’s bubbly presence.

 

“Does she know?” His manager asks quietly when they get caught up in traffic. Jinyoung’s looking out of the window and having a staring contest with the dog in the backseat of the car parked next to theirs.

 

He snorts. “Of course. Why do you think she’s indulging me?”

 

Contrary to popular beliefs, Jinyoung and Jisoo aren’t romantically involved. They’re both in this unhealthy relationship for the mutual orgasms and escape from reality. They’re not dating, they’re just each other’s most regular hookup.

 

Jinyoung has sex with other people, and so does Jisoo. Their relationship isn’t as hard to understand as other people make it out to be. It’s simple.

 

They have sex with each other, and try to pretend that they’re not in love with other people.

 

***

 

“Have you ever asked her?” Doyoung asks him, and looks at Jinyoung through the reflection from the front mirror. They’re on their way to Jinyoung’s dinner schedule.

 

Jinyoung’s tired, it’s been a long day. His CF shooting had taken longer than expected and his stomach is still full from the amount of fried chicken he had to consume. And Doyoung should know by now, they’ve been doing this for goddamn _years_.

 

Jinyoung exhales through his nose loudly, the irritation from Doyoung’s question evident in his every action. He understands that Doyoung is only concerned for him and Jinyoung’s being unreasonable and selfish to direct his frustration and distress at him, but Doyoung keeps attempting to get him to talk about his _feelings_ when Jinyoung doesn’t even to fucking _feel_.

 

He doesn’t answer Doyoung.

 

Doyoung doesn’t press any further.

 

And Jinyoung continues to pretend that his manager’s question doesn’t linger in his head.

 

***

 

They arrive in front of a small, cozy and homely restaurant a few minutes later. Jinyoung mutters a small ‘bye’ and hops out of the car way too fast and desperate to be normal like always and hopes Doyoung is too immersed in his own thoughts to notice.

 

He wonders if he should be more happy to attend his high school reunion, but Jinyoung doubts his ex-classmates invited him because they missed him or genuinely wanted to catch up with him; he’s bound to be slapping away prying hands and ignoring sultry stares directed at him all night long. The thought instills enough displeasure in him for him to contemplate turning on his heels and walking right out here and miserably running back into Jisoo’s slim, yet undeniably safe arms.

 

(He stops himself thinking about another pair of slim and safe arms.)

 

“Jinyoung! Over here!” Welp. Too late to leave now.

 

Jinyoung plasters a fake smile on his face and waves politely as he walks over to the crowding table. “Hey guys.”  

 

He doesn’t remember the name of the guy who wraps an arm around his shoulder. He couldn’t care less.

 

Multiple hands grasp and pull him onto a cushioned seat and a cheap can of beer is shoved into his hands, Jinyoung mumbles out an uncomfortable ‘thanks’ and enough awkward greetings to last him a lifetime. Cringe nips at his stomach. Most of his ex-classmates go back to the conversations they were having before Jinyoung interrupted. He’s not surprised, but can’t help but feel slightly disappointed as he starts his first round of avoiding unwanted wandering touches.

 

He shouldn’t have had any expectations.

 

***

 

At some point, Jinyoung gets tired of the situation, his ex-classmates are either overly touchy-feely or are completely ignoring his existence, it makes him wonder whether or not they even consider him as a fellow human being, a normal 20-something year old struggling to meet the world’s expectations of them. He excuses himself and walks out of the restaurant to grab a quick, quiet smoke break away from the constant loud chattering, and pauses as he leans against the glass door outside.

 

He wants to laugh, but, whether out of bitterness or relief, he’d never know. What he does know, however, is that God fucking hates his guts, if the appearance of the man squatting down next to him is anything to go by.

 

 _My life’s like a k-drama_ , Jinyoung thinks, peering down at the man, noting the cigarette hanging out of his lips, _it’s so fucking cliché_ . Of course he meets Jaebum like _this_ , with sharp twinkles cascaded by the moon and the street lights illuminating the other man’s features, years after sobbing and begging the man to come back to him on national television.

 

He’d imagined their reunion a tad more dramatic. Yet again, he’s reminded of the consequences of having expectations. He wonders if this is how his parents felt when he told them he didn’t want to study medicine but instead, wanted to become an idol.

 

"I didn't know you smoked," Jinyoung comments, although no shock or surprise belies his tone. His voice is soft and could easily be smothered by the booming noise being emitted by the shop behind him. He’s giving Jaebum a chance to ignore him and not respond, he supposes, he’s giving Jaebum a path out from his messy life, from the conversation they’re about to have.  

 

Jaebum grunts, takes another lazy drag and hands the cig out towards Jinyoung.

 

"I don't smoke," Jinyoung says. He doesn't know why he said that. Probably to spite Jaebum. He's always been like that.

 

Jaebum snorts, "that's bullshit."

 

"You don't know me," Jinyoung says breezily, but places the cigarette between his own lips and takes a drag. In the moonlight, Jaebum looks almost ethereal, like an image conjured by Jinyoung’s mind because he yearns for the other man so much. Jinyoung wonders what he looks like in the other man’s eyes, wonders if Jaebum can still the stars in his eyes, like what he’d always tell Jinyoung when they were younger.

 

"You’re right," Jaebum sighs, standing up and dusting his jeans a little, "I don't." He turns to leave, but falters to a stop when Jinyoung's hand grips tightly around his wrist.

 

“Where have you been?” _Why did you leave me?_ The question is crystal clear. Jinyoung winces at how obvious the hurt is in his voice.

 

“Somewhere,” Jaebum offers, it sounds nonchalant and the pain from his uncaring attitude affects Jinyoung more than he should let it.

 

Rage and anger and sadness and regret explodes in Jinyoung and he’s frustrated that he can’t see Jaebum’s face, can’t see what he’s feeling, and he so so _so_ tired of Jaebum running away from him, like he’s afraid that Jinyoung would hurt him. Because if there’s one thing Jinyoung refuses to do, it’s hurting Jaebum. Why doesn’t he understand that?

 

“Where?” Jinyoung presses further, his tone is more harsh, more demanding; he’s losing himself and his calm (he’s always been prone to irritation, Jaebum knows that). He’s closing the distance between them with short but even steps and Jaebum is leading them into the narrow alleyway next to the restaurant. _God_ , Jinyoung wishes Jaebum would stop trying to protect his career. Jinyoung doesn’t need his career, he needs _Jaebum_.

 

“Served my years in the military,” Jaebum says, albeit reluctantly, his voice no louder than Jinyoung’s.

 

 _Somewhere without you_ , Jinyoung’s brain sneers at him. His grip on Jaebum tightens further.

 

“Why?” _Was it because of me?_

 

“You know that’s not why,” Jaebum replies, as if reading his mind. Jinyoung’s mind fleetingly marvels at the way they can still remain so in sync after ten years of being apart before he can stop himself.

 

“Then why! Is military why you left? I could’ve come with you, we could’ve served together!” Jinyoung is shouting now, voice booming, drowning out the distracting background chatter on the busy street, and he knows he shouldn’t. He’s angry at Jaebum. He’s angry at himself. He’s angry at both of them because he cannot believe they let the situation become like this. This isn’t them. They’re supposed to be starry-eyed fools in love, not broken people who cannot piece themselves back together.

 

“You know that’s not true,” Jaebum sighs heavily, eyeing the floor with sudden interest, “you had your idol training and career to think about, you couldn’t have just left.”

 

Again with the career thing, isn’t Jaebum just using it as an excuse to avoid Jinyoung? The emotions Jinyoung feels are overwhelming, drowning him in an endless pit of loneliness. Resentment at Jaebum’s departure clashes with the relief of his return. The heart pounding excitement he feels because Jaebum hasn’t forgotten about him contrasts with the fear of the other man forgetting him the future. Sadistic satisfaction from the way he knows that Jaebum is still trying to hold onto the embers of their fading passion conflicts with the hurt that washes over him because he can never stand to see Jaebum sad. All of the emotions inside Jinyoung jumble together until it’s just a giant ball of twisted relief and regret.

 

Jinyoung’s going to cause a ruckus because he’s always been too emotional, too sensitive, and it’s going to draw attention, which means the media is going to have a field day with misleading photographs and Jinyoung will have both of his ears chewed off by his manager.  

 

But maybe he wants attention. Maybe he just wants Jaebum’s attention, and he no longer cares about how he’s going to get it. If acting like an ill-mannered child and throwing a temper tantrum in public will make Jaebum pay attention to him, then so be it.

 

“Let go of me,” Jaebum says calmly. Jinyoung scowls, there are telltale signs of tears pricking at the edge of his eyes. Why isn’t Jaebum reacting? Why isn’t Jaebum fighting back? How much does Jinyoung have to do to get a simple reaction out of him?

 

“No.”

 

“ _Jinyoung_ .” It’s the first time in ten years that he’s heard Jaebum say his name. The syllables rolling off Jaebum’s tongue should sound foreign, his voice shouldn’t sound so familiar. Jinyoung hasn’t heard from him in ten. Fucking. _Years_. He shouldn’t even remember Jaebum.

 

Yet, Jaebum still sounds and feels like home.

 

“Let me go.” _Forget about me._ The unspoken words are harsh.

 

A beautiful, yet shattered and broken home.

 

A home Jinyoung hasn’t returned to in ten years — wasn’t even given a fucking chance to return to; a home where the heavy doors had been slammed shut and locked in his face, where no amount of screaming and frustrated pounding could reach past it. Jinyoung’s heart cracks a little bit more.

 

Jinyoung releases him, and together with Jaebum, all the feelings of anger from himself until he’s left numb with sadness. Jaebum doesn’t flinch away from him as soon as Jinyoung lets him go, instead, his arm lowers slowly, like he’s hesitating and regretting.

 

Jinyoung wishes he doesn’t. It makes not loving Jaebum harder.

 

They don’t speak anymore, the silence is suffocating. Jinyoung turns around and leaves without another word, without another look and walks and walks and walks, letting his feet carry him to places his mind cannot follow. He walks until he doesn’t know where he is, or why he’s there.

 

He takes the first bus he sees.

 

It’s empty.

 

For the first time in ten years, Jinyoung thinks of moving on.

 

***

 

What a joke. There’s no way Jinyoung’s moving on. He’s stupid to think that he would.

 

Jaebum has dug into him too deep for him to push out, the older man has left a distinct Jaebum-shaped hole in Jinyoung’s heart, a pit of emptiness only Jaebum’s love can fill.

 

So Jinyoung gets shit-faced. Because longing for Jaebum while he’s drunk off his ass doesn’t hurt as much as it does when he’s sober and aware of what he’s thinking, of what he’s missing, of what he desperately needs but can’t have—of what he had taken for granted.

 

Even Jisoo looks disappointed with him when she comes to pick him up. Jinyoung makes grabby hands at her, and slurs a few incoherent sentences as she thanks the bartender for helping her carry him to her car.

 

She shoves a bottle of water into his hands and pins him with stern glare until Jinyoung obediently chugs the entire bottle down. It sobers him up a little, but not enough for him to unlock the door of his apartment and get inside by himself without causing an accident.

 

Jisoo trails in after him and locks his door with a dreary sigh. She watches him, under the dim kitchen light, as he guzzles down another glass of water. When he’s done, the glass falls from his hands and rolls until it hits the edge of the fridge. The sound of glass hitting wood is sharp. None of them make a move to pick it up. Jinyoung leans with his back against the sink and slides down until he’s resting against the cool of the wooden cupboard.

 

In the few moments of his sobriety, Jinyoung realises that Jisoo is wearing her pajamas under her long parka and there are visible bags under her eyes. He must have woken up her up with his call. He feels guilt pinch at his heart and he’s tired of feeling like he’s the root of all his problems.

 

“Want to talk about it?” Jisoo asks, sitting down next to him. The silence is oppressing.

 

“Okay,” she says and kisses him. She tastes like mint toothpaste and worry. So Jinyoung lets her hold him, to reassure her and himself. Her arms are soft, they’re nothing like Jaebum’s but it doesn’t stop him from wondering what it would feel like if it were Jaebum’s arms around him that night.

 

***

 

 _I was drunk_ , he’d tell himself later, because it doesn’t count when he’s not thinking straight.

 

 _That’s a shitty excuse_ , Jinyoung’s traitor of a brain will, inevitably, supply, seconds after the first thought.

 

***

 

He wakes up in the morning with another pounding headache and Jinyoung curses himself. At least he doesn’t have an impatient manager knocking angrily at his door, which means no nosy paparazzis captured his little outburst with Jaebum yesterday.

 

“I’m so tired,” he groans and buries his face into Jisoo’s hip to block out the sunlight streaming through the gaps between his blinds. He should get curtains.

 

"Why are you tired? You didn’t even do anything last night," Jisoo laughs, voice light and teasing. Her lips close around the cigarette as she fiddles around to find her lighter.

 

Jinyoung wants to snatch the cig away from her and throw it in the trash and yell at her to look after herself and then hug her tightly after because she deserves to know how much he cares about her.

 

And maybe they should just cry together.

 

Instead, he watches her light the cig and take a slow drag. He pulls it out between her fingers when she's blowing out the smoke and takes a deep drag himself. Jisoo looks kind of disappointed, a reflection of her expression from last night. Jinyoung understands.

 

"Why do you have sex with me?" He breaks the silence and hands the cigarette back to Jisoo. It’s a direct question because there’s no purpose in beating around the bush; Doyoung’s question is still nagging at the back of his mind. Jisoo glances at him, no astonishment in her eyes or expression, and blows a ring of smoke at his face.

 

"I think you know why," she says as if she had expected him to pop the question to her at some point, sooner or later, and it marks the end of their conversation.

 

Jinyoung knows. They use each other in similar ways; he sleeps with Jisoo for the same reasons Jisoo sleeps with him. The only difference being that Jinyoung dreams of fisting his fingers in short, dark locks, while she imagines long brown curls draped over her.

 

It’s not ideal, and it’s probably not healthy. But it’s _something_.

 

It’s _them_.

 

And it’s all Jinyoung’s got right now.

 

***

 

Fate must hate him, Jinyoung concludes as he runs hastily into a coffee shop to grab a double espresso shot, already five minutes late to the audition of his new drama, and accidentally bumps into the person standing in line in front of him.

 

The guy turns around to presumably glare at him and Jinyoung readily wears his smile that’s reserved for evil interviewers who take a step too far during the interview and asks Jinyoung questions that aren’t scripted. He hopes the guy won’t recognise him and make a fuss of the situation. He probably won’t, Jinyoung reckons, because he’s bare faced, hair not styled, stubble not shaved and his clothes are rather shabby compared to what he usually wears when he appears in public. The thick, black rimmed glasses that sit on his face aren’t particularly appealing either. Jinyoung would bet good money that he looks more like a stressed graduate student who’s suffering from the growing unemployment rate and student loans than a striving, 28 year old kpop star.

 

Except he does get recognised. Jinyoung’s eyes widen when he sees the face of the man, but manages to hold in the small gasp.

 

“Jinyoung.” The man’s voice is flat.

 

Of course it’s Jaebum.  

 

“Jaebum,” he greets back, although it’s more of a hiss. Something foreign sparks in Jaebum’s eyes for a second, but it’s gone before Jinyoung could work out what it was. Jaebum doesn’t talk anymore, and Jinyoung doesn’t attempt to strike a conversation either. The silence engulfs them and it reminds Jinyoung too much of the first time they met. Eighteen and awkward as fuck.

 

There’s a quiet hush in the background, because it’s only 6:30 in the morning. Most people in here are either passed out with their faces smushed against the cool table top or downing their third refill of caffeine. Jinyoung relates to them on a spiritual level.

 

He gets distracted, wallowing in his thoughts and staring at Jaebum’s board shoulders, and startles out of his stance when he hears Jaebum’s voice start speaking.

 

“One strawberry shake, please.”

 

Jinyoung begrudging notes that Jaebum’s taste hasn’t changed the slightest from ten years ago, he still has an insatiable sweet tooth.

 

The young girl behind the counter, who has fake eyelashes so thick Jinyoung can’t even see her eyes, winks and gives Jaebum a purposeful peek through her unbuttoned uniform shirt as she hands him his receipt. Jaebum nods awkwardly and scurries away to the waiting area as if his pants have been set on fire.

 

Jinyoung wants to snark at the girl and tell her to _back the fuck off, that’s my man_ but reminds himself that Jaebum isn’t his anymore. Hasn’t been his for an entire decade. Jinyoung doesn’t have the right to be jealous, much less act upon his jealousy. But, he can’t really be faulted for the brief annoyance that passes through him as he steps up to the counter though. He’s a possessive person at nature. And he never really could bring himself to believe that Jaebum isn’t his and that he isn’t Jaebum’s anymore.

 

The girl gives him the same flirtatious wink and he gets the complementary eyeful of boobs too when he orders his usual double shot with minimal milk and no sugar. The sharp bitterness and scolding _hot_ of the coffee is always the perfect mix to wake him up.

 

He stiffly joins Jaebum in line to pick up their drinks. The only interruption in their tense silence is the crunchy noise of paper rustling when Jinyoung crumbles and stuffs his receipt into his pocket. Jinyoung clenches his jaw tightly, afraid that he may blurt out things he thinking about but doesn’t actually want to say out loud. The uneasiness in the hard lines of Jaebum’s shoulders tells Jinyoung it’s the same for the other man.

 

Jinyoung is, unabashingly, staring at the back of Jaebum’s head. A part him will curse himself for giving into his desires later on, but right now, he’s content with trying to provoke a reaction out of Jaebum. He’s sporting a natural dark brown hair colour in a neat cut that falls just above his eyes. The change in hairstyle is particularly obvious to Jinyoung, since the last time he saw Jaebum, the man was still going through his bleach blonde phase.

 

Jinyoung’s dreamed plenty times of burying his hands into the bright colours of Jaebum’s soft hair. He doubts it would stop anytime soon, especially now he gets a close up look without tears blurring his vision.

 

Jaebum’s shuffles forward in line and his hair goddamn _glistens_ under the golden sunlight that shines through the thin slit of glass in the wall. _Ah_ , how much Jinyoung wants to sink his fingers into that silky plush.  

 

The waitress impatiently hands them their drinks when their numbers are called, before rushing back to the machines to make more. Jinyoung follows Jaebum out of the shop.

 

“Stop staring,” Jaebum tells him, no real bite in his voice, as they stroll down a relatively empty street.  Jinyoung doesn’t even try to deny that he was staring. Eventually, Jaebum walks to a stop and actually looks at Jinyoung in the eyes. Wow, Jinyoung didn’t even know Jaebum was capable of doing that. Now that he has such a clear view of Jaebum’s face, Jinyoung doesn’t know if he _can_ stop staring. It’s not that he hadn’t seen Jaebum’s face when they had their reunion outside the restaurant a few nights ago, but the darkness and flickering night lights really hadn’t given any Jaebum any credit.

 

His facial features have matured. His jawline is more chiseled and his cheekbones are taut. He’s lost the little bit of baby fat he had, Jinyoung notices, the softness underneath his chin is gone. His eyes are sharper, and lines of his neck are more defined.

 

He looks like a man now. Not like the lost boy Jinyoung befriended and fell in love with all those years ago.

 

“You done?” Jaebum asks him, raising an immaculate eyebrow. Jinyoung snorts. Hell will freeze over before Jinyoung’s done with marveling at Jaebum’s face.

 

And his body.

 

( _God_ , those _thighs_.)

 

He’s staring at Jaebum’s lips when Jaebum opens his mouth to say something else.

 

Jinyoung’s phone chooses that exact moment to start blasting his ringtone. Jinyoung groans, it must be his manager.

 

“ _Park Jinyoung! You better get over to the set right now or I’m going to whoop your ass to hell and back!_ ” Doyoung shouts over the phone as soon as he picks up. Jinyoung winces.

 

“Okay, okay. I will. Calm down,” Jinyoung says cooly, pressing his phone closer to his ear, hoping that Jaebum doesn’t overhear his manager chewing him out. Which is a huge mistake, because Doyoung starts shouting again and Jinyoung jerks the phone away from his sore eardrums.

 

“I gotta go,” his says quietly and leaves, hearting pounding loudly in his chest.

 

There had been something in Jaebum’s eyes, it’s the same one from before, and it looks a lot more familiar than Jinyoung anticipated. It looks almost alike with the one Jinyoung sometimes sees reflected in his own eyes, on lonely days and when he misses Jaebum’s warmth pressed against his side a little too much.

 

Welp, Jinyoung thinks, power walking out of the situation before he can convince himself to have hope, at least they didn’t part with a fight this time.

 

It’s progress.

 

***

 

Jinyoung had spoken too fast, because whatever progress he and Jaebum had made is flung off into the distance, lightning fast, when the director asks Jinyoung and Jisoo to hang out more in public to promote the drama they’re filming, where they are the main characters and couple.

 

Jinyoung’s got a hand on Jisoo’s thigh, while she’s chatting with the bartender. He can barely make out what their conversation is about over the deafening music pumping out of the speakers overhead, but he can tell, even with his back against the countertop and eyes roaming over the dancefloor, that the young bartender is completely enthralled by Jisoo’s charm.

 

He drums his fingers lightly on her leg and she sneaks a hand down to squeeze his. Jinyoung turns around to give her a quick grin before going back to looking at the numerous bodies swaying as one in sync to the beats.

 

That’s when he spots Jaebum dancing in midst of the sea of bodies. The dark haired man is grinding back against a blonde hunk. Jinyoung feels jealousy coil in the pit of his stomach. Jaebum’s got one arm around the guy’s neck and his free hand gripping his ass, pulling the blonde’s chest flush against his own back. The blonde guy’s hands are latched onto Jaebum’s hips as he buries his face into Jaebum’s neck.

 

Jinyoung watches Jaebum throw his head back against the guy’s shoulder and he wants nothing more than to punch him in the face, Jaebum or the blonde guy, he can’t even tell at this point. All he knows right now is the overwhelming urge to replace the blonde’s spot behind Jaebum’s with himself, and show him who dances better with Jaebum. Suddenly, there’s a tight grip around Jinyoung’s wrist, from where his hand still rests on Jisoo’s thigh.

 

“Jinyoung.” His eyes widen with mortification when he realises that he’s no longer tapping out a random rhythm on the woman’s leg, instead, he’s digging his blunt nails into her skin painfully.

 

He lets go of Jisoo immediately.

 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” He asks, frantically trying to smooth out the crescent-shaped indents he left on her, “I am so sorry.”

 

“I’m okay,” Jisoo gives him a reassuring smile, “but are you alright? You seem kinda tense.”

 

“It’s nothing,” Jinyoung says with a sigh. Look at him, he left his emotions affect him enough to hurt someone who he cares about. He really needs to stop. Jaebum’s isn’t his to get jealous and angry over.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah,” Jinyoung smiles a little, “I’m fine.” He flicks her forehead playfully when her concerned expression doesn’t go away. “Come on, you’re gonna get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that. Stop worrying, we’re supposed to have fun tonight.”

 

She still looks slightly doubtful at his words, but nevertheless, her face clears up marginally.

 

“Yeah, let’s have fun,” Jisoo says and tips back the last of her row of tequila shots. She stands up and laces her fingers in his, pulling him towards where people are dancing. “Let’s go, I just got shit faced and I want to dance!”

 

Jinyoung hesitates. Thinks of what will happen if they accidentally bump into Jaebum and the guy he’s with.

 

 _He’s not yours,_ his mind supplies helpfully, _and you’re not his. Stop caring about him so much_.

 

Yeah, Jinyoung agrees, he’s out here to have fun with Jisoo, he’s not going to let his ex stop him from doing something he enjoys.

 

***

 

Jinyoung should’ve known the second Jisoo’s hands wandered away from between themselves that she’s finally let the alcohol take over her brain and trying to get into the pants of the next hot guy she lays her eyes upon.

 

Jinyoung’s too busy to notice as he attempts to pry Jisoo’s hands of off the guy and whiz them to another spot on the dancefloor before the guy leans in close enough to recognise who she is, but as soon as he looks up to glare at the guy so he’d get the message and let go off Jisoo already, he scowls.

 

Of course it has to be the guy who had been dry humping Jaebum.

 

“Hey, leave her alone,” he hisses, tone brusque and hostile.

 

“You her boyfriend or something?” The guy sneers up at him, breath stinking of alcohol, cheeks flushed a dusty pink. Jinyoung has to admit, he’s quite good looking, he can see why Jisoo wants to take him home now. Too bad, the guy’s an asshole. “She clearly wants me and we’re all consenting adults here. Let her decide for herself, dude, I mean, if you wanna stay with her, I’m always up for a threesome. You’re kinda cute.”

 

“Back off, we’re not interested,” he scoffs at the guy and turns back to face Jisoo, “come on, I’ll take you home.”

 

Jisoo garbles something against his shoulder and she makes no moves to pull away from the guy. There’s a smirk tugging on the edge of the guy’s mouth and Jinyoung wants to wipe it off with his fist.

 

He’s about to snap at the blonde guy when a voice speaks above all the noise in the club.

 

“Jackson? I’m ba-” Jaebum’s voice trails off when he realises who’s standing before him. His eyes dart to where Jinyoung has a secure arm wrapped around Jisoo’s waist to keep her upright, and then back up. Their eyes meet for a split second and Jaebum looks away.

 

The blonde guy — Jackson, doesn’t seem to notice Jaebum’s internal dilemma and continues to blabber on while throwing an arm around the brunette’s shoulders. “Oh my god, JB, you won’t believe this hot girl I just met and her hot boyfriend!”

 

Jaebum visibly flinches when Jackson mentions the word boyfriend and Jinyoung wants to scream at Jaebum and tell him that that’s not it, that he’s not in love with Jisoo, that he’s still in love with him.

 

“Don’t bother them, Jackson,” Jaebum says, lips set in a grim line, “let’s go. I want another drink.”

 

Jackson whines at him, “I just met them, let me talk for just a few minutes more.”

 

“Let’s go.” Jaebum’s tone is clipped, and there’s obvious distaste in his expression when he glances at Jisoo. Anger boils in Jinyoung.

 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he seethes. He doesn’t care what shit went down between the two of them, but Jisoo isn’t involved and Jaebum has no right to be looking down on her like that. Not when he doesn’t know shit about what she has gone through.

 

(Jinyoung will never admit he glared at Jackson with the same look of disdain when he first spotted him dancing with Jaebum.)

 

Jaebum pointedly ignores him, and there’s fucking _disappointment_ of all things in his eyes.

 

The anger in Jinyoung rises like a tidal surge, devouring what little logical sense he has left. Jaebum is not allowed to be disappointed with Jinyoung. He owes him nothing. Jinyoung isn’t Jaebum’s anymore. The older man doesn’t get the right to act like Jinyoung’s disappointed lover when he doesn’t even want to be Jinyoung’s. Jinyoung’s done nothing wrong.

 

“Jackson, if you agree to leave the girl and her _boyfriend_ alone now, I’ll let you do body shots of off me.” He can hear Jaebum speaking the words and Jackson cheering in the background, but he can’t comprehend the noises, can’t string the syllables together to form a coherent sentence. Can’t understand anything apart from the fuzzy white noise in his head.

 

Jinyoung doesn’t know why he does it. He’s completely sober, not an ounce of influence in him, yet his fist connects sharply with Jaebum’s jaw (the jaw that he wants to mouth over and kiss). There’s a sickening cracking sound and Jinyoung’s knuckles explode with bone numbing pain. Then there’s shouting. Jinyoung’s shouting something and Jaebum’s shouting something back, but he doesn’t know what.

 

All he remembers is a pair of soft arms around his waist, pulling him back, the metallic taste of blood flooding his mouth and a throbbing _hurt_ in his left cheek that matches the one deep in his heart, and then he’s being dragged away from Jaebum by security.

 

He remembers the sadness in Jaebum’s eyes.

 

 _That_ , Jinyoung will never forget.

 

It will haunt him forever, embedded into his memory.

 

That night, the tide rises again and Jinyoung sits where he always sat. Except, even the stars can’t shine through the murky clouds this time. He can only rely on his hearing, as the seawater washes ashore, reaching higher and higher every time. He waits, in darkness, as the waves finally drown and suffocate him.

 

He wakes in the morning, tears dripping from his eyes. Like the seawater, they’re salty on his lips.

 

***

 

( _“How can you look at me like that? Do you know how much you’re hurting me? I hate loving you!”)_

 

_(“Don’t you dare think for a second that I’m not hurting as much as you are!”)_

 

_***_

 

Jinyoung and Jisoo don’t talk for a week after. Jinyoung spends the week buried under piles of blankets and stewing in his patheticness. On Wednesday night, Jisoo barges in with three full bags of chinese take out, and Doyoung trailing in behind her.

 

There’s a determined look on her face. “We’re going to talk,” she says, “whether you want to or not.” Jinyoung sighs.

 

He’s on an ‘official mini-hiatus’ right now, as his agency would put it, which means he has no excuses to avoid her. They gather around Jinyoung’s coffee table in the living room and eat in awkward silence. No one initiates conversation, the atmosphere is tense.

 

Doyoung isn’t exactly speaking to Jinyoung either. Well, Jinyoung supposes, he wouldn’t want to talk to himself either. The fight between him and Jaebum didn’t break out too big, since it managed to morph into a story of how ‘Young and rising actor, Park Jinyoung bravely protected his girlfriend, Kim Jisoo, from an sexual harasser at the XXX club’ and hadn’t hit the tabloids as ‘Arrogant rookie actor, Park Jinyoung initiates fistfight in XXX club with his ex-boyfriend Im Jaebum’.

 

But still, Doyoung had received most of the brunt from the higher ups for not being there and stopping the situation before it got out of hand, even though it had been Jinyoung who had convinced Doyoung, who wanted to go with them, to take the night off.

 

“So, you want to tell me about Jaebum?” Jisoo finally asks, after swallowing a mouthful of fried rice.

 

“You want to tell me about Jennie?” Jinyoung bites back. The last thing he wants to do now is to remind himself of Jaebum and the disappointment and hurt and pain glowering in his eyes when he looks at Jinyoung.

 

Jisoo glares at him. “We’re gonna talk about you today. Not me.”

 

“How do you expect me to talk to you about a problem you aren’t facing yourself?” Jinyoung scoffs, downing the last of his orange juice. He knows he’s provoking her, riling her up, reminding her of own problems so she forgets about his.

 

“Shut up,” Jisoo says through gritted teeth, “we’re gonna do this properly, and we’re not going to talk about Jennie.”

 

“Then we’re not talking about Jaebum either.”

 

“Fine,” she snarls and stands up, “continue to be coward and run away from your problems.” There it is again. Disappointment. Disappointment in the way she glances at him one last time, disappointment in the way she trudges towards his front door.

 

Jinyoung is so damn tired of people being disappointed with him.

 

“You’re right,” Jinyoung growls, throwing his chopsticks down at the table as he stands up too. The clatter of wood against porcelain is loud and jarring. “I am a fucking coward but this is my fucking problem! You don’t know shit about me! And it’s not like you’re confronting your issues either! _You’re_ the goddamn coward. You know what, at least I don’t tuck my tail and run off in the opposite direction whenever I fucking see my ex!”

 

Jisoo’s face is bright red with anger, her hands are fisted tightly by her sides.

 

Jinyoung is a hypocrite.

 

“Shut up Jinyoung,” she hisses, “you’re not thinking clear. _You_ don’t know shit about me and Jennie so shut up before you ruin our friendship forever.”

 

“I don’t care! Leave!” Jinyoung roars and chucks a can of coke at his door when it slams shut behind Jisoo. He falls back against his couch and buries his face between his knees.

 

It takes a while but eventually Doyoung breaks the solemn silence that’s smothering the entire apartment.

 

“She didn’t deserve that,” he says, there’s no particular prominent emotion in his voice, no disappointment, no resentment, just exhaustion.

 

Jinyoung doesn’t respond from his spot on the couch, his frame trembles violently as he sobs into his hands.

 

“You don’t deserve this either,” Doyoung adds, voice kind and gentle, as he starts clearing up the mess they’ve made in the living room.

 

Yeah, Jinyoung agrees silently, he doesn’t deserve them.

 

Jisoo and Doyoung are way too good for the piece of shit friend like him.

 

***

 

By now, Jinyoung knows better than to get inhibited in public, so he stumbles his way down to the local liquor store to buy something strong enough to help him stop thinking.

 

For some reason, there’s only one bottle of the brand of vodka that Jinyoung likes left on the shelf. He’s reaching out to grab it when another hand comes into his line of sight and snatches the bottle away before he can.

 

“What the fuck,” Jinyoung breathes, turning around to face the asshole. A familiar head of blonde hair comes into his view.

 

“Park Jinyoung?”

 

 _Oh my god_ , there is no way this is even possible. What horrible deeds has Jinyoung ever done to deserve this?

 

“Jackson,” he acknowledged with a grimace. If Jackson’s surprised with Jinyoung remembering his name from their encounter last time, he doesn’t let it show.

 

Jackson continues to stare at him, but Jinyoung doesn’t have enough patience to deal with the other man’s antics.

 

“Give me the bottle,” he says, “I need it.”

 

“Ugh, you okay, dude?” Jackson asks, narrowing his eyes and squinting at Jinyoung’s face, taking in the dark bruises under his eyes and the hollowness in his cheeks, “you look like shit, man. You don’t need this.” He waves the bottle around in front of Jinyoung, “you need sleep.”

 

“That’s why I need the alcohol,” Jinyoung huffs, hand reaching out in an attempt to snatch the bottle out of Jackson’s hold. Jackson dodges him easily and clutches it to his chest. “Can’t sleep without it.”

 

“Ooh, buddy,” Jackson wheezes, handsome features bunched into a sour expression, “that’s a _huge_ problem you got there. You might want to work on it.”

 

“I don’t have problems,” Jinyoung says and it feels like the biggest lie he has ever told. He can feel the bitterness of it on his tongue. “Now give me the bottle. Actually, it doesn’t matter, there’s stronger stuff here. You can’t keep me from buying everything in this store.”

 

“Yeah, I can,” Jackson grins. Jinyoung hates him. “Mark!”

 

“What do you need?” A deep voice calls back from towards the front of the shop.

 

“You check IDs here, right?”

 

“Not really. No one cares, dude.”

 

Jackson frowns, and shouts something that Jinyoung doesn’t understand. Must be another language, Jinyoung thinks, which, by the way, _rude_ , because, _hello_ , he’s standing right here and he’d like to know what the hell is going on, considering this affects how drunk off his ass he’s going to get tonight.

 

There’s some more shouting back and forth between the two men before Jackson turns to face him again, “this is on the house if you brought your ID with you.”

 

“No the fuck not it isn’t!” Mark yells, “you pay if you say it’s on the house.”

 

Jackson pointedly ignores him. “I’d bet good money you didn’t bring it with you. No one ever remembers anymore.”

 

True to his words, Jinyoung had forgotten his ID card. It’s not like he really carries it around anymore, since he matured well and looks his age for the most part. But he pats his pockets as if he had remembered to bring his ID, just to scare Jackson and wipe that smug smirk of his lips.

 

“I didn’t bring it with me,” Jinyoung concedes with a sigh after a few minutes.

 

“Well then, sorry man, you can’t buy it,” someone says from behind him. Jinyoung startles and jumps away with a squeal. What the fuck? When did someone walk up behind him?

 

“Hey Mark,” Jackson cheers while waving his arms around dramatically. The man (if he even is a man — he looks he like he’s _twelve_ ), appears to be more like a prepubescent boy with his wide eyes and tiny face. Jinyoung wonders how the hell he got employed by someone to work at a liquor store when _he_ is the one who looks underage (later, Jinyoung will learn that Mark hadn’t been employed by someone to work at the liquor store, in fact, he’ll find out that Mark’s family _owns_ the liquor store).

 

Mark scoffs. “You pay for what you break,” he warns in a sullen voice, “I went broke last time you knocked over a shelf.”

 

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause you pushed me into the shelf, dipshit,” Jackson replies with a scowl.

 

“Bullshit,” Mark calls out, brushing past Jinyoung to stand closer to Jackson. As he walks past, Jinyoung catches the smell of something suspiciously like weed.

 

“Okay, so,” Jackson gestures vaguely at Jinyoung, “this is Jaebum’s ex, Jinyoung.” He points at Mark, “and this is Mark. We were frat bros.”

 

Jinyoung glares at Jackson. “I’m more than just Jaebum’s ex.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jackson brushes him off, “you’re the love of his life, too. How could I forget.”

 

“Fuck off,” Jinyoung mutters, face heating up in an furious blush, mortified.

 

Marks nods as if he understands everything in the world. Jinyoung glances at him warily. Not that he suspects Jaebum’s choice of friends (or boyfriends, Jinyoung wouldn’t know; the way Jaebum and Jackson had danced seemed more than just platonic, but then again, Jinyoung and Jisoo have no-strings-attached sex regularly so it’s not like Jinyoung can say much) but there seems to be an ever expanding number of people who seem to know about him and Jaebum. Ooft, now he’s _really_ going to need that alcohol.

 

“We’re the only people who know,” Mark says like he can read Jinyoung’s mind, and leans against Jackson’s shoulder, “well, I think, anyways. Maybe Youngjae too. Jaebum doesn’t have a lot of friends.” He shrugs.

 

“Yeah, he’s sad and lonely,” Jackson puffs, leaning back against Mark as well. Jinyoung’s eyes zoom in on the bottle of vodka hanging loosely from his hand, “he’s a grumpy old grandpa.”

 

In the split second Jackson turns his face away from Jinyoung to make an off-hand remark to Mark about how much Jaebum needs _someone_ in his life, Jinyoung skids forward and plucks the bottle out of the blonde man’s grasp. Then he runs, as fast as he can, out of the store while throwing cash onto the floor.  

 

If anyone told Jinyoung a month ago that he would be technically stealing vodka and sprinting down the streets to his apartment in the dead of the night, while being chased by two surprisingly swift foreigners, he would have politely recommended that they get a brain scan. However, currently, Jinyoung is speeding his way up the apartment block stairs and hoping that he lost Jackson and Mark somewhere during the chase but the pounding footsteps that seem to shadow his every turn tells otherwise.

 

He loses some time as he fumbles with his keys, but manages to open his door in time to lock the two other men out.

 

Or, so he thought.

 

“Ouch! That fucking hurts!” Jackson gasps when Jinyoung tries to squeeze his door shut with Jackson’s foot in between. “Let go! You’re gonna break my toes!”

 

The three of them struggle for a little longer, and Jinyoung is thankful for his new drama because there’s no way he’d be strong enough to resist the combined force of Jackson _and_ Mark if he hadn’t needed to work out for his role.

 

Eventually, Jinyoung gives in, only because the vodka bottle is about to slip from his hands and, _fuck it_ , he did more exercise to get this bottle than he has ever done in his whole entire life, he isn’t going to let it break.

 

“Oh my god,” Jackson pants as he falls face first onto Jinyoung’s pile of shoes as soon as Jinyoung lets them in. Mark’s gulping in oxygen with his hands resting on his knees next to Jackson, and Jinyoung isn’t any better, steadying himself against the wall while sucking in deep breathes through his nose.

 

“How’re you guys so fast?” He asks once his heart has stopped beating like crazy and he can stand up straight properly without falling over. He pads into his kitchen and grabs three cups and returns to the living room. “Normally, I’d offer water or juice, but I guess I can share the vodka with you guys.”

 

“I’m an olympic fencer,” Jackson beams and launches himself onto Jinyoung’s couch. “Mark does martial arts.”

 

“Olympic fencer?” Jinyoung replies, impressed.

 

“Gold medalist,” Mark adds, proud, and ruffles Jackson’s hair as he plops down next to him. “London, 2012.”

 

“Woah,” Jinyoung whistles, “I did not expect that.”

 

“Yah!” Jackson perks up from his slouch, “I know an insult when I hear one!”

 

“What,” Jinyoung raises an eyebrow as he pours them all a large helping, “with the way you acted at the club, it’d be more logical to assume that you weren’t doing anything noble, let alone be a world champion.”

 

“Lots of world champions are dicks, and I’m sorry for the other night,” Jackson says, taking a sip from his cup, “but I’m nothing compared to you. You came first in a singing competition! Man, I can’t even hold a tune.”

 

“That’s only because Jaebu—” The grin slips off Jinyoung’s face and he tips back what’s left in his cup. “I don’t even talk about this with my best friends, and I’m not about to with two complete strangers.” He pours himself another cup. They don’t comment on the fact that Jinyoung literally let the two strangers into his apartment to drink with him.

 

“I’m not Jaebum’s boyfriend!” Jackson blurts out suddenly. Jinyoung spits his entire mouthful of alcohol all over his coffee table. Damn, he’s going to have to clean that up later.

 

“What the fuck, Jackson?” He snaps while wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

 

“I just,” Jackson starts off with a weary sigh, his hand smoothing over the cup, “I just wanted to clear things up, because JB thinks that there’s no way you’d believe him if he tried to explain that we’re not together. I mean we dance a lot but we’ve never even hooked up once, never even kissed. It’s the truth.” Jinyoung watches Mark wrap a hand around Jackson’s knee and squeeze gently.

 

“Did he tell you to do this?” Jinyoung asks, eyes scrutinising at Jackson’s expressions.

 

“No,” Jackson responds, and it’s genuine. “He hasn’t really spoken to me since Tuesday, I think he’s feeling apologetic for getting me involved, y’know, especially because I got labeled as a ‘sexual harasser’ and it ‘tarnished my reputation’ or something.” He lets out a humourless chuckle. “But nothing about me got revealed and it was really him who got written as the sexual harasser so I don’t know why he’s blaming himself like that. He’s so emotionally constipated.”

 

Mark hums in agreement. “I know you don’t want to talk to us about this, and I understand,” he says, voice calm and soothing, “but you should talk to Jaebum about it. You’re achieving nothing by avoiding each other.”

 

“I’ll do what I want,” Jinyoung mumbles around the rim of the cup, feeling slightly relieved at the prospect of Jaebum being single. By the time, Jackson and Mark have finally given up on persuading him to talk about his issues, Jinyoung’s already on his fourth cup, and his head feels light and fuzzy.

 

“We should go,” Jackson yawns, setting his cup down and stretching his arms out. It’s empty but Jinyoung doesn’t recall him pouring himself anymore.

 

“Yeah, come on,” Mark rubs his eyes, “I’m not even sure I locked the doors of the shop.” His cup is still full and untouched.

 

“Don’t die,” Jinyoung slurs, eyelids heavy and drooping shut every few seconds.

 

“We won’t,” Mark replies, hand warm on Jinyoung’s shoulder, “look after yourself, alright?” He herds Jackson out of the apartment.

 

When the front door clicks shut, Jinyoung downs what’s left of the alcohol and hobbles his way to his bed.

 

Sleep takes longer than he expects to blanket him in its darkness, but it feels warm tonight, more like a light keeping him from the unsettling chill of winter than the dullness that usually creeps upon his mind.

 

***

 

Jinyoung is woken up by the racket outside his apartment the next morning. He rolls over onto the floor, and checks the alarm clock that he had flung at his wall when it had gone off earlier and groans loudly.

 

It’s only 10 a.m.

 

He climbs back onto his bed and pulls his pillow over his head, trying to block out the rude noises.

 

“Park Jinyoung! Open the door!” The voice sounds familiar.

 

“Open the door! Or I’m assuming you’re dead and calling the police!” The voice is eerily familiar.

 

“Jinyoung hyung, I swear to god! My phone is in my hand right now and I’m dialling one and one and nine and pressing the call bu— oh, hi, hyung,” Yugyeom smirks and sashays into Jinyoung’s apartment when Jinyoung opens the front door, hand clutching his head because Yugyeom’s voice is way too shrill for his brain right now.

 

“What are you doing here?” Jinyoung scowls, gulping down a glass of cold water after following the younger boy into the kitchen.

 

“Well,” Yugyeom smiles sweetly and clasps his hands together, looking like an innocent child. Jinyoung scoffs. He knows the devil behind Yugyeom’s pure appearance too well to believe that the boy had any ounces of goodness left in his soul. “Can’t I visit my favourite hyung when I want to?”

 

“Last time you came over was to use my shower so you didn’t need to pay as much for your water bills,” Jinyoung points out and pulls a carton of chocolate milk out of the fridge. Jinyoung doesn’t even like chocolate milk and it’s only in there because it’s the brand that Yugyeom adores but struggles to afford as a trainee. He sighs internally, geez, this goes to show how tightly Yugyeom’s got Jinyoung wrapped around his finger.

 

He pours the younger man a glass and hands it to him with a straw and watches him sip happily at the treat.

 

“I’m here on behalf of your manager,” Yugyeom announces, half done with his milk, “I heard from him that you fought with Jisoo noona.”

 

“Doyoung shouldn’t be going to you with my business,” Jinyoung frowns, “you should be focusing on your debut right now.”

 

“My debut preparations are going smoothly,” Yugyeom rolls his eyes, “but clearly, your and Jisoo noona’s relationship isn’t.”

 

“Yah, don’t speak to me like that,” Jinyoung chides softly, although Yugyeom hasn’t spoken formally to him since their second meeting.

 

Yugyeom skips over to Jinyoung and wraps his lanky arms around his shoulders. “Hyung,” he whines and coddles, “please? Just speak to her and apologise, okay? She’s feeling guilty too because she thinks it’s because she tried to force you into talking about whatever problems you have.”

 

“She won’t want to see me,” Jinyoung murmurs, tired.

 

“How do you know that?” Yugyeom questions as he traces patterns with his finger on the older man’s right shoulder blade, “did she you tell you that herself?”

 

“No,” Jinyoung admits, “but, if she said the things I said to her to me, I wou—”

 

“Ah ah,” Yugyeom cuts him off, “but not everyone is you, hyung. Jisoo’s a different person, she’s got different opinions and different emotional reactions. You can’t expect her to be the same as you. That’s absurd. So, as long as you don’t hear it from her directly, then you can’t just assume that noona doesn’t want to see you.”

 

“Although, if she doesn’t, I’d totally understand,” he adds as a second thought. Jinyoung laughs and slaps Yugyeom’s arm lightly.

 

“Child abuse!” He yelps and jumps out of Jinyoung’s arms.

 

“Come back here,” Jinyoung urges and laces his arms around the boy’s narrow waist and rests his chin on Yugyeom’s shoulders. “When did you grow up so fast? It feels like just yesterday when you first auditioned and got in. You were so small and so quiet and like a lost puppy. Now, you’re taller than me and giving me life advice.”

 

Yugyeom giggles, “someone has to be the mature adult out of us two, and obviously you can’t fulfil the role.”

 

“Shut up. Don’t you have anywhere to be?” Jinyoung lets go of him when Yugyeom attempts to tickle him. “I know how hectic it is when debut is just around the corner.”

 

“Yeah, that reminds me,” Yugyeom glances up at Jinyoung’s clock, “I’ve got another dance practice in twenty minutes, I better go, last time I turned up late, Bambam threw his drink bottle at me.”

 

“You probably deserved it,” Jinyoung offers as he walks Yugyeom to the front door, ignoring Yugyeom quiet muttering about how Jinyoung doesn’t appreciate how great of a dongsaeng he is, “well, I hope you have a smooth debut. You and Bambam are gonna be the best kpop duo JYP has ever seen.”

 

“Thanks hyung,” Yugyeom hugs him one last time before slipping his sneakers back on, “I hope you sort out your messes soon. You should pop down to the practise rooms more, we never see you at the building anymore. Other trainees miss you too, you know.”

 

“Okay, okay, I will,” Jinyoung laughs when Yugyeom holds up his hand for a pinky promise. “Yugyeom-ah,” he calls out as Yugyeom is about to disappear into the elevator down the apartment hallway. “Thank you!” He smiles and waves. It’s two words that he hasn’t said in a long time. He should use it more often.

 

Yugyeom beams back at him. “You’re welcome,” he mouths as the elevator doors meet in the middle.

 

Jinyoung retreats back into his own apartment feeling a lot more light hearted and less exhausted than he did yesterday.

 

Yugyeom’s cheeriness really did wonders to his mood. Jinyoung thinks over about what the boy had said and finds his phone. He inhales a deep breath and types out a message, pressing send before he chickens out.

 

**Park Jinyoung**

Let’s meet up and talk. My treat. I want to apologise.

 

It only takes Jisoo three minutes to reply, but to Jinyoung, those three minutes felt like forever as he waited in silence.

 

**Kim Jisoo**

what time?

 

**Kim Jisoo**

do i get to decide where to eat

 

His response is almost immediate.

 

**Park Jinyoung**

Of course. Wherever you want.

 

***

 

A part of him expected Jisoo to choose the most expensive restaurant in the country, and he is surprised when his GPS leads him to a small, hole-in-the-wall type of noodle bar. He briefly worries that he typed in the wrong address and ended up and the wrong place but he sees the familiar swish of Jisoo’s hair as she lowers her head in laughter through the window panes and walks into the shop.

 

“Hey,” he greets and sits on the seat next to her.

 

“Hey,” she greets back and offers him a small grin.

 

“Have you ordered anything yet,” Jinyoung asks.

 

“Yeah, I was hungry,” Jisoo answers, “I ordered for you too, is that okay?”

 

“Yeah, sure. I don’t mind.”

 

It’s been a few years since Jinyoung and Jisoo shared any awkward silences. Unaware of how to resolve the tension, they resort to fidgeting and glancing at each other when they think the other isn’t looking.

 

“I want to apologise,” Jinyoung eventually says at same time as Jisoo blurts out, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have forced you!”

 

It stuns them both into another couple of seconds of silence but the pair soon burst into laughter.

 

“Can you believe we didn’t talk to each other for a week?” Jisoo chuckles, running a hand through her hair.

 

“It’s a new record,” Jinyoung comments.

 

The rest of lunch goes well as they both chat less in favour of eating. Jinyoung finishes before Jisoo, so he watches her finish the last of her noodle soup.

 

“I want to apologise properly,” he fiddles his thumbs when she’s done, “I shouldn’t have shouted at you when you were trying to help me. I shouldn’t have shouted things about Jennie either, I crossed a line. I’m sorry.”

 

“You’re not the only one at fault,” Jisoo says after wiping her mouth with a napkin, “I shouldn’t have tried to force you to talk about something you’re uncomfortable with just because I wanted to help. I should have considered your feelings as well. I’m sorry too, Jinyoung.”

 

“I don’t blame you at all, but if it makes you feel better then I accept your apology. I hope you’ll accept mine too.”

 

“Of course I do.”

 

They relapse back to the silence, but this time, it’s different. This time, it’s a comfortable silence.

 

“Jinyoung,” Jisoo speaks up after a while, “I wanted to talk about something else.”

 

“Yeah?” He peers up from where he’s scrolling on his phone.

 

“I talked to Jennie after you said,” Jisoo waves her hand in a dismissing gesture, “ _those things,_ because I considered what you said, and we fought a bit, just shouting back and forth, and she told me things that she’s never told me before in the heat of the argument. Things that I never even realised about her. Jinyoung, you have to understand, this was stuff coming from a woman who dated me for a solid three years. There was _still_ things she was afraid to tell me. And I have to admit, there were things I didn’t tell her either. No one likes showing others their vulnerability, Jinyoung, but you have to learn to for the ones you love.”

 

“You and Jennie got back to together?” Jinyoung gasps, realisation dawning him. “You and Jennie got back together!”

 

“Yes,” Jisoo replies, anxiety bleeding out from her body, “after talking with Jennie, a lot of our misunderstandings were out in the open. But we’re taking things slow now, because we probably rushed it last time!” She finishes off with a squeak.

 

“Congratulations!” Jinyoung shouts in excitement, happiness and contentment for his friend swelling up inside him. He stretches over the table and pulls her into a tight embrace.

 

“Come one, oppa,” she squeals, “you’re gonna squish me to death!”

 

“Sorry, sorry,” he lets go of her, “we’re still best friends, right?” He asks, in a moment of insecurity.

 

“Yeah, nothing gonna change that,” Jisoo pats his hand, “just no more kissing. Or sex.”

 

“That’s fine by me. We’re going to have to release an official statement saying we broke up,” Jinyoung points out, “I don’t want Jennie to feel bad or like she’s being hidden.”

 

“We can deal with that later,” Jisoo says, “but right now, I want to tell you something. If you don’t want to listen, you can tell me, okay?”

 

“Go on,” Jinyoung encourages.

 

“I know we were together for the same reasons, and I know that it doesn’t indicate that we have the same issues, but Jinyoung, avoiding your problems doesn’t make it go away,” Jisoo says calmly, although her fist, which has been clenching and unclenching nervously on top of the table tells otherwise, “have you and Jaebum ever talked after what happened.”

 

“No,” Jinyoung sighs, although he feels no annoyance, “he never gave me the chance to.”

 

“Do you know why?” She presses.

 

“No,” Jinyoung says, frustrated, “and that’s the problem. I know he loves me but I don’t understand why he refuses to admit it to me. It makes me feel like he’s ashamed of loving me.”

 

“Have you ever told him that?”

 

“No?” Jinyoung scoffs, “why would I? So he could make fun of my feelings and rub it in my face?”

 

“Maybe you should tell him about it,” Jisoo suggests, face solemn and serious. It makes Jinyoung’s anger dissipate and he thinks over her words again. “I found my happiness, I wish you’d find yours soon, too,” she continues with a kind smile. “Try talking to Jaebum. Tell him how you feel and apologise for punching him in face. Give him a chance to talk about his side of the story. If you could repair things with me, then you can repair things with Jaebum.”

 

“It’s a lot more complicated than you think,” Jinyoung groans, resting his face on the table top.

 

“Then work your way through it, one problem at a time, starting from the top,” Jisoo threads her fingers through his hair, “You’re a smart man, otherwise I wouldn't have spent two years of my life giving you the best orgasms you’ve ever had.”

 

Jinyoung manages to let out a genuine laugh at that.

 

***

 

Starting from the top, Jinyoung thinks as he drives his car up the familiar driveway of his childhood house.

 

The top of all his problems.

 

“Jinyoung, darling!” His mother crows as she opens the door for him, “come in! You haven’t been home in so long! I missed you, you know? I only ever get to see you on TV nowadays.”

 

“Sorry Mom,” Jinyoung gives his mother a tight squeeze with one arm while trying to balance all the food he brought with the other. “I’ll try to visit more often from now.” His mom looks at him like she knows that it’s an empty promise.

 

“That’ll be good.” She turns away from him and starts sorting through the bags he placed on top of the kitchen countertop. “Your sisters say they rarely see you anymore, and you all live in the same city.” She doesn’t talk about his father. Jinyoung’s not surprised.

 

“Seoul’s a big city,” he reasons. Silence finds it way between them, stifling and suppressing.

 

The last time Jinyoung visited, the relationship between his father and him had been left a bit more than just strained. It was the first time Jinyoung raised a hand against his dad, first time he yelled at his mother, first time he cursed them and blamed them for the misery he had been going through.

 

“I should’ve told your sisters to come back too,” his mother mumbles from behind Jinyoung, “we haven’t had dinner all together in so long.”

 

“Yes, it’s been a while.” Five years. It’s been _five years_ since he has seen his parents face to face. The thought makes Jinyoung snort internally — he can’t believe _he_ used to be the one who could not be separated from his parents, and regularly told his older sisters about how much he loved his mom and dad, about what he’d do for them once he grew up and got a steady job.

 

Jinyoung shifts uncomfortably and clears his throat. “How’s… how’s dad?”

 

His mother visibly tenses before continuing with stirring the pot on the stove. “He’s good.” Her tone is terse and clipped, frustrated yet desolate, full of secrets. Shame and regret claws up Jinyoung’s heart and latches onto his throat. She is his _mother_ , the woman who raised him and loved him without a second thought. How could he not know what’s making her sound so glum and woeful?

 

“What’s wrong?” Jinyoung urges, eyebrows furrowed.

 

“It’s nothing to worry yourself over,” she insists, frowning, “he’s just out right now, that’s why he couldn’t pick you up.” It’s clear that his mom doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, so Jinyoung leaves it reluctantly, afraid of damaging their relationship more with his sharp words and pressing tone.

 

“Do you need help with anything?” He chooses to ask instead.

 

“Just set the table please.” His mom hands him a stack of porcelain plates and metallic cutlery. “Your dad should be home any minute now.”

 

He does as she instructs him to. Soon, they sit in silence at the dining table, waiting for Jinyoung’s father’s arrival. Except he never shows up and Jinyoung and his mom begin to eat with enough tension in the atmosphere to poke a hole through with their chopsticks.

 

Jinyoung notices how his mom looks like she’s on the verge of tears throughout the entire meal, and feels helpless. He had come home with the intention of having a good dinner with his parents and repairing their relationship but reality is rather confronting.

 

Jinyoung’s never been very good with confrontations.

 

It’s bordering on 1 a.m. when his father stumbles through the doorway and collapses on the couch in the living room. He’s red in the face and all the way down his neck, bleary eyed, and stinks so much like alcohol Jinyoung can smell it all the way from where he is brushing his teeth in the bathroom.

 

His mom is crying with her hands covering her face and shrieking at his dad when he walks into the room.

 

“How could you?” She sobs, “our son comes home after years of being away and you don’t even have the decency to stay sober for one night?!”

 

“Shut up,” his dad slurs and wobbles towards the bathroom, pushing past Jinyoung without a second glance.

 

“Mom?” Jinyoung gapes, terrified and forlorn, “Dad?” His mother doesn’t answer him from her spot on the sofa and his father is probably too busy throwing up his guts to notice Jinyoung’s shock and horror.

 

“Mom,” Jinyoung whispers, striding forward to join his mom and hug her tightly. She cries into his shoulder and Jinyoung tries to pat her back soothingly. When the two of them finally manage to get Jinyoung’s dad, who almost passes out against the toilet seat, into bed safely, it’s already well past two. Jinyoung’s mom crumples tiredly onto the couch, sighing and wiping at the tear tracks on her cheeks with the back of her hand.

 

Jinyoung sits on the other end of the couch, hands gripping his knees.

 

“Mom,” he says, lips set in a grim line. He turns to face her. “What was that?”

 

His mother pinches her temples with one hand and sniffles.

 

“He’s been like that for a while,” she starts crying again, Jinyoung shuffles towards her and wraps an arm around her small and timid shoulders, “since you left, he’s completely changed.”

 

“Since I left?” Jinyoung questions with disbelief, “Mom, it’s been _years_ since I left!” He lowers the volume of his voice when he feels his mom flinch. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

 

“I couldn’t, Jinyoung!” She cries louder, “you didn’t want to speak with either of us and your sisters said that you were really stressed out with work. I didn’t want to give you even more things to worry about so I told them not to tell you.”

 

“Mom,” Jinyoung sighs and squeezes her shoulders, his mom has never felt smaller and weaker in his arms than now. “You can always tell me. It doesn’t matter what kind of fight goes down between me and Dad or how much work I have on my hands, you’ll always be my mom and Dad’ll always be my dad. I’ll always love you guys, nothing’s gonna change that.”

 

“I love you, too, Jinyoung, you’re really the best son,” his mom offers him a watery smile, “if only your father isn’t as stubborn and blind as he is. He’d surely see how talented you truly are.”

 

“Thanks Mom,” Jinyoung smiles back. He pauses for a beat, “I’ll talk to Dad tomorrow.”

 

She hums in response and gasps when she turns around to look at the clock. “Oh dear! The time! Quick, quick,” she shoves lightly Jinyoung to get him to stand up, gushing at him to hurry off into his room. It reminds Jinyoung of the times when he was younger and his mom would scold and rush him to bed when she catches him staying up past his bedtime to play video games. It’s nostalgic. “Go to sleep. I know you have to catch a flight back to Seoul tomorrow.”

 

“Okay, okay,” Jinyoung laughs softly, letting himself be pushed his mom, but frowns when she doesn’t move from her spot near the couch.

 

“I’m sleeping here tonight,” she explains, reading the confused scowl on his face, “you go sleep in your room. I rewashed all your bedsheets and pillows.”

 

“What happened to noona’s room?”

 

“We made it into a study, so your nephew has a quiet place to work when he stays over.”

 

Jinyoung nods, “well then, I’ll sleep on the couch. You can sleep in my room. Sleeping on this old thing will hurt your back.” His mom’s left eye twitches, and she’s opening her mouth to argue when Jinyoung speaks up again. “I’m young, it’s not going to affect me as much as it’s going to affect you. Mom, come on, just sleep in my room, okay? I’ll be fine.”

 

His mom agrees eventually, albeit reluctantly. Jinyoung watches her walk silently down the hallway and disappear into his room, falling back against the sofa, on top of the bundle of blankets and pillows she had gotten out for him. Exhausted from staying up, Jinyoung soon falls asleep in a weird position so his limbs don’t dangle of the furniture.

 

 _One problem at a time_ , he reminds himself as unconsciousness overcomes him, _starting from the top_.

 

***

 

Jinyoung wakes up to quiet footsteps early next morning, and spots his father shuffling around in the kitchen, downing a glass of water.

 

“Dad,” he calls out softly, leaving his temporary bed on the couch and padding over into the kitchen. His dad ignores him, washing his glass loudly and dropping it onto the drying rack with a sharp clink.

 

“Dad,” Jinyoung says again, this time with more force in his voice, so his father can’t pretend to not hear him. He stands up straighter. ”Dad, we need to talk.”

 

“No we don’t,” his father hisses and tries to push past Jinyoung. Jinyoung blocks the doorway with his body and glares back, not even budging when his father speaks to him again in a harsher tone. “Move. Let me through.”

 

“No.” Jinyoung says firmly, even though his stomach is flipping nervously from facing his father. Unused to his son standing up to him, the older man is clearly in shock for a second before the anger from before returns heavier than it had been.

 

“Not everything is about what you want!” The older man shouts, frustrated and face red.

 

Jinyoung feels the familiar rising of anger in his stomach. “This isn’t about what I want!” He shouts, trying his best to extinguish the flames of rage in himself. “This is about you hurting Mom! Can’t you see it? She cries about you! She never left you alone when you needed her! How can you do this to her?”

 

His words stun his father into a silent trance, the older man hangs his head low. From his angle, Jinyoung can see the whitening roots of his father’s hair. When did he grow taller than his father?

 

“Dad…” Jinyoung rubs one hand down his face. Hesitant, he lays his hand gently on his father’s shoulder, and the older man looks up from the touch, cheekbones protruding and wrinkles in places Jinyoung doesn’t remember seeing last time he came home. “I’m not asking for you to forgive me,” he says sorrowfully, eyes looking away and hand dropping to his side, “I just don’t want you and mom to get hurt over me.”

 

Jinyoung’s father sighs in response and pushes forward to get past him again. Jinyoung frowns harder but lets him through and watches him shuffle down the hallway. Whatever he had said probably isn’t enough, Jinyoung huffs and sinks down onto the floor, but he did his part, if his father isn’t going to listen, then what else can Jinyoung possibly do?

 

***

 

An hour later, his mom finds him quietly packing his bag in the living room.

 

“Were you going to leave without waking me up?” She asks, scandalised and slapping Jinyoung’s upper arm lightly.

 

Jinyoung laughs and picks his bag up from the floor, “It’s early and I figured you needed the sleep.”

 

“What a filial son I have,” she says in response and pinches his cheek, “and so handsome too!”

 

“Mom,” Jinyoung whines, embarrassed despite being in the confines of his own house with no one other than his family around. He’ll probably never get used to his parents praising him so much. What a sad thought.

 

“Okay, okay.” His mother glances at the clock, “I’ll send you off.”

 

“It’s alright,” Jinyoung argues as they walk to the front door, “I’m taking a cab to the airport and my flight won’t take long to departure.” His mom refuses at first but eventually gives into her son’s adorable pleading.

 

“Yah! Your son’s leaving, come out here and send him off!” She shouts as Jinyoung unlocks the door. There is no reply from his father. His mom sighs again and brushes off Jinyoung’s concerned look. “It’s okay, I can deal with him,” she insists as they step out into the chill of an early winter day. Jinyoung shivers and his mom takes her scarf and wraps his around his neck. It’s warm.

 

“You can come to live in Seoul with me,” Jinyoung mumbles as she engulfs him in a hug, “you and Dad both.”

 

“Your dad and I have our friends and careers, most of our lives here in Busan,” Jinyoung’s mom says, patting his back comfortingly, like she used to do when he was still a young, snot-nosed brat who saw the world through rainbow coloured lenses, “even if we wanted to leave, it’ll be hard to just go.” Now that his perception of the world has been obstructed by the black and white lenses, everything filtered through a grayscale, Jinyoung finds even more comfort in his mother’s kind words and warm touch.

 

“I’ll move back to Busan then,” He mutters sulkily, hiking his bag up higher. His mother laughs and ruffles his hair lovingly.

 

“You better go,” she gives him another hug as the cab arrives, “you shouldn’t be late for your flight.”

 

“Yes, yes,” Jinyoung chuckles as he climbs onto the backseat, “I won’t.”

 

He closes the door and rolls the window down so he can still shout his final farewells at his mom. As the cab starts driving slowly, Jinyoung leans slightly out of the window to give his mom a final wave.

 

That’s when he notices his dad standing behind her, waving back at him silently.

 

The flight back to Seoul is peaceful. Jinyoung falls asleep. The tide is still rising, but it doesn’t try to drown him this time.

 

***

 

The agency decides to place Jinyoung back into the scene after his mini-hiatus by giving him an album.

 

Jinyoung is only mildly surprised.

 

“They want you to write some of the songs,” Doyoung tells him as they drive up to the company building, “so it’ll look you took the break to get over your break up with Jisoo, and produce sad break up music about it.”

 

“Sly old foxes, forcefully putting me on break and then making it look like I volunteered for it,” Jinyoung scowls, “ and I was never dating Jisoo in the first place, people just speculated it and then those damn foxes released an ‘official statement’ without even consulting any of us. I’m still disappointed that YG didn’t sue their asses.”

 

“YG got a lot of attention and money out of it too,” Doyoung shrugs, eyes concentrating on the road ahead, “and it’s not like you protested or denied it.”

 

“There was no point,” Jinyoung groans, head thunking against the glass window, “no one would’ve believed me, there was an official statement.”

 

“Still, you could’ve called out on it,” Doyoung reasons as he pulls into the parking lot.

 

“Not if I don’t want my ass fired.” Stepping out of the car, Jinyoung stretches his limbs and yawns.

 

“You’re one of the company’s biggest assets,” Doyoung claps him on the shoulder as they walk into the building, “the higher ups wouldn’t have anything to leech of off if you left. They’d rather tolerate you starting drama than lose a single cent from their bank accounts.”

 

Jinyoung laughs, “too bad for them then, I can’t write break up songs if I didn’t actually break up so they’ll just have to learn to catch whatever I pitch.”

 

***

 

Jinyoung writes a song called _Thank You_ and puts together a mini album under one month. It’s dedicated to everyone important in his life: his fans, his parents, his sisters, Doyoung, Jisoo, Yugyeom and, well, _Jaebum_.

 

As sappy and cheesy as it sounds, he wouldn’t be standing where he is today without any of them, especially Jaebum.

 

When he presents it at the meeting, the shareholders, the directors and the company owner all look shocked.

 

“We were expecting the title song to be a bit more like _Mayday_ or _Trauma_ ,” one of the directors comments a few awkward moments after the song finishes.

 

“I’m aware,” Jinyoung says, tone clipped, clasping his hands together and sitting up straighter, “but I cannot write about a heartbreak if I’m not going through one.” He had written _Mayday_ a week after Jaebum disappeared and _Trauma_ on the first birthday he spent without Jaebum after meeting the man. It had been when loneliness and despair overwhelmed him as he returned to the empty dorms and there had been no warm body already in bed waiting for him, no strong arms embracing him, no sleepy smiles and almost incoherent words of adoration and love mumbled messily into his skin.

 

No Jaebum.

 

So Jinyoung worked and worked and worked, locked himself in his empty bedroom writing lyrics and perfecting them until they conveyed just how heartbroken and hopeless and grief-stricken he felt without Jaebum, and he kept composing until the music matched the desperate and distressed themes of his words.

 

The company put all the songs Jinyoung had produced into one album that sold like mad and spread across the country like wildfire. He was the most popular JYP rookie to ever debut, and the album, _Turbulence_ , consequently became his last and only album as he found acting and pretending to be someone else rather comforting.

 

“Leave it,” the company founder says as he goes through the lyrics of _Thank You_. Jinyoung swallows and bites down on his bottom lip nervously. “Who said breakups have to end on a bad note? This whole ‘I’m at least grateful to have had you in my life’ thing he has going on is actually quite refreshing. It’s unique.”

 

Jinyoung breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you Park PD-nim.” He sends the older man a grateful look, and he gets a single solidarity nod of acknowledgement in return.

 

***

 

The make-up artist is applying his eyeshadow when Jinyoung suddenly realises that he hasn’t been on stage to perform and promote in almost a decade. The thought causes a bomb of anxiety and restlessness to explode in his guts and he wants to throw up to get it out of himself.

 

Jinyoung can’t believe he’s still nervous about singing with an audience after ten years of debut, but it doesn’t stop him from excusing himself from his waiting room and taking a short bathroom break—nerves always made him want to pee for some odd reason.

 

On the way, he greets his juniors politely with a tight-lipped smile and the usual mandatory wave and nod. One of the rookie groups sing their introduction to him and he grinds his teeth as he claps for them and cheers them on for their performance.

 

As soon as the group is gone to greet the next unsuspecting senior idol, Jinyoung power walks down the long hallway to the bathroom. He’s not willing to admit that perhaps he _sprinted_ to the toilets yet, but his pride’s small enough for him confess that he certainly did not travel at normal walking speed.

 

That’s probably why he doesn’t notice the only other person in the men’s bathroom until it’s too late.

 

Jinyoung’s zipping up his jeans and walking past the guy at the other end of the row of urinals towards the sinks when he recognises him.

 

He could just leave, Jinyoung thinks as he lathers his hands with soap and washes them under the cold tap water, and just pretend that he never saw the man. He could just let go of this messy chapter of his life, he could move onto the next. Jinyoung just needs to let go his regret and bitterness and—

 

“Are you stalking me?” _Of course_ his goddamn mouth betrays him again.

 

“What?” Jaebum head snaps up and there’s an angry furrow in his eyebrows. Jinyoung’s surprised that the older man even heard him over the cacophonous _fwhoosh_ of the hand-drier. “What’d you say?”

 

“I asked,” Jinyoung says louder this time, trying to speak above the noise, leaning against the protruding section of the white, porcelain sink, which is horrible decision, because now it’s digging into his back but Jinyoung’s cares too much about looking cool to move away, “if you’re stalking me.”

 

“Why the hell would I do that,” Jaebum snarks back, sounding disgusted. Jinyoung falters for a beat too long, and Jaebum takes a quick step towards the entrance.

 

“Then why are you here?” Jinyoung pushes off the edge and walks up to Jaebum, “why are you here if you’re not here for me?”

 

Jaebum turns around to face him and glares, eyes sharp and fists clenched at his sides. “I’m here because my friend is debuting today. I didn’t even know you’d be here.”

 

“Who?” Jinyoung returns his eye contact when his eyes trail down to follow the bobbing of Jaebum’s adam’s apple as he swallows harshly.

 

“It’s none of your busine—” Jaebum starts but is cut short when a worker walks in. Startled, Jaebum jumps a safe distance away from Jinyoung.

 

“Um, am I interrupting something?” The worker stops a metre away from the entrance and glances at both men.

 

“No,” Jaebum says cooly to the worker, waving his hand dismissively. He turns back to Jinyoung and hisses, “we’re done here anyways.” He pivots on his heel and strides out of the bathroom. Jinyoung gives the confused worker a strained, close-lipped grin as he awkwardly brushes past him and chases Jaebum out of the men’s bathroom.

 

“Jaebum, wait,” Jinyoung calls as he tries to catch up, “hyung!” Jaebum jolts to a stop.

 

“What do you want from me, Park Jinyoung,” sighing, Jaebum rubs a tired hand down his face.

 

Jinyoung bites down on his tongue and attempts to make sense of his jumbled thoughts, “I just, just—”

 

“ _Park Jinyoung-nim, you are required to be backstage now. I repeat, Park Jinyoung-nim, you are required to be backstage now._ ” A voice reads over the loudspeakers. Jinyoung curses internally.

 

“Watch my performance,” he finally decides as he jogs backwards towards backstage, “please, just do it.”

 

Jaebum doesn’t answer him; there is no _okay, I will_ , but there is also no _I’d rather die than watch you sing_ either, so Jinyoung counts it as a win.

 

***

 

Jinyoung doesn’t know what hit him, but it’s probably because he knows there’s a chance that Jaebum’s standing there in the audience, watching him, listening to him, listening to what Jinyoung has to say, but he ends up performing with a whole lot more heartfelt emotions than he originally intended to.

 

He’s supposed to finish with a quietly whispered _thank you_ at the end of the song, just like he had rehearsed so many times, over and over again, except he pours in all his sincerity and adds a _to the person I still love the most_ in front of the _thank you_. It comes out slightly unclear because he had said it in a rush to match the beats of the music, but Jinyoung’s pretty sure he got his message across.

 

The crowd erupts into applause, and his fans start chanting his name as Jinyoung bows and waves, catching his breath. His eyes search for Jaebum’s amidst the bodies. The search comes up empty and Jinyoung’s smile drops a little, feeling discouraged.

 

***

 

He finds Jaebum slouching outside of his waiting room when he returns from the stage. The man’s in a squatting position with his back against the wall, phone in hand and intent on ignoring Jinyoung’s arrival.

 

“What’re you doing here,” Jinyoung asks, exhausted, and not the least bit shocked. He pushes the door open and heads inside, flopping down on the sofa. Jaebum silently follows him inside and closes the door behind himself.

 

“I need you to stop,” he says, head down, not looking at Jinyoung. There’s something akin to defeat  in his voice.

 

Jinyoung sits up and frowns, disliking Jaebum’s words. “What do you mean?”

 

“I need you to stop,” Jaebum repeats himself, “I need you to stop pretending like we can be together again.”

 

“Excuse me?” Jinyoung stands up, throwing the cushion onto the floor, not in the mood for Jaebum’s unreasonable words. “What did you say?” This time, it’s Jinyoung’s turn to ask.

 

“I watched your performance,” Jaebum explains after a few moments of hesitation, he’s still not looking at Jinyoung, “I left right after you finished, I knew you would look for me so I ran, okay? But what you said— what you sang— I heard it all, Jinyoung, please just stop loving me.”

 

“What.” Jinyoung’s voice is harsh, despair and anger slowly building up in him again. People often assume Jaebum is the one with the bad temper, and he is, but Jaebum’s rage came in spurts, it’s easy to rile him up, but it’s also as easy to calm him down, to receive his forgiveness. Jaebum’s always been too kind.

 

Jinyoung’s different. He’s polite most of the time, but once he gets pissed off, he stays pissed. And Jinyoung’s not very kind, or forgiving.

 

“ _What_ did you just say,” Jinyoung says again, moving closer to stand in front of the other man. “Look at me.”

 

“I can’t do this anymore.” Jaebum eyes meet his, and there’s so much grief in them, the anger in Jinyoung dissipates and disappears. Jaebum always had that effect on him. “You need to stop loving me. You need to move on, Jinyoung, stop obsessing yourself over me.”

 

Before Jinyoung can even open his mouth to shout at Jaebum about how ridiculous he’s being, Jaebum interrupts him.

 

“I know that song is about me, Jinyoung,” he says softly, a sad smile tugging on his lips, “but it shouldn’t be.”

 

“You don’t get to tell me what should be and what doesn’t get to be,” Jinyoung hisses, jabbing a long and slender finger at Jaebum’s chest. Jaebum’s smile falls. “ _I_ decide if I want to continue to love you or not. And if you moved on, you wouldn’t care about how hurt I am.” He continues, words intently sharp, hoping to land a hurtful blow somewhere, to evoke some kind of reaction that doesn’t mean Jaebum is giving up on Jinyoung, on _them_ ; and by the instant return of Jaebum’s frown, Jinyoung supposes he has succeeded.

 

“You don’t understand how much seeing you like this hurts me!” Jaebum shouts before he can stop himself and swears, “fuck, I need a smoke to get through this.” He pulls a cigarette and a lighter out of his back pocket. Jinyoung remains miffed as Jaebum places the cig between his lips and lights it up.

 

“You want one?” He asks, after taking a deep drag. Jinyoung watches the man in front of him. So close yet so, so, so far away. It feels as though the older man is constantly several steps ahead of him, and despite running as fast as he can, Jinyoung can never catch up. Can only watch the shadow of Jaebum’s broad back fade into the distance while Jinyoung calls out his name helplessly.

 

Jinyoung’s hand curls around the cigarette wedged between Jaebum’s fingers and tosses it to the ground. Jaebum lets out a surprised yelp, but his first reaction hadn’t been to pick up the wasted cigarette, or to curse at Jinyoung, instead he grabs Jinyoung’s hand and demands that the younger man unclench his fist so he can inspect the damage.

 

“How can you do something so reckless like that?” He fusses over the younger man, examining Jinyoung’s palm for any burn marks, “what if you burnt yourself? What if your fans see? It doesn’t take a lot to realise what a cigarette burn looks like. You could ruin your career!”

 

Jinyoung takes this opportunity to hold Jaebum’s small and clammy hand in his own. “I don’t care about my career or my reputation, hyung!” He yells, heart racing, and at this point, he can’t even tell what he’s feeling anymore, just a huge jumble of emotions. “I care about you! And I know you still love me! Why can’t we be together?” The conversation Jinyoung had with Jisoo flashes through his mind briefly. “Is it because you’re ashamed of being with me? Is that why?” He becomes panicked and desperate when Jaebum remains silent. “Answer me, hyung!”

 

“Because I’m a fucking liability!” Jaebum explodes, snatching his hand out of Jinyoung’s hold, “you have your entire future ahead of you! You can have any person you want, anything you want! Being associated with me will only ruin that, Jinyoung. My name, my family’s name — it was all over the news! We were— I was the bad person, I was the villain, do you understand that? You’re the hero, Jinyoung, you can’t love the villain. I don’t want to be the one holding you down. I don’t want to be the reason why you gave up your dreams when you worked so damn hard for them!”

 

“But you’re the only one I want, I don’t give two shits about this job,” Jinyoung’s voice softens when he notices the tears rolling down Jaebum’s cheeks, “my dream is to spend my life beside you— _with_ you, hyung, it’s nothing without you here with me.” He wraps his arms around Jaebum’s shuddering shoulders and pulls him into a tight hug. “Plus, there would be no hero if there were no villain, the hero only exists because the villain exists. I would be nothing without you, hyung, you know that? I _am_ nothing right now because you’re not here with me.”

 

“Yah, don’t say that,” Jaebum sobs, punching Jinyoung’s chest, no real strength behind it. Jinyoung chuckles, the sound is empty. His eyes kind of sting, like he’s—

 

“Oh my god, why’re you crying?” Jaebum gasps when he pushes away. He wipes at the tears on Jinyoung’s face with his sleeve gently. “I’m the one who’s worried, so why are you crying? You didn’t actually hurt yourself, did you? Let me check your hand again.”

 

“Huh? I’m fine,” Jinyoung insists, showing his woundless palm to Jaebum, “I just love you so much.” The tears don’t stop dripping from his eyes. “Oh my god, why am I like this?”

 

“Come here, you big sap,” Jaebum laughs and loops his arms around Jinyoung’s waist, pulling the younger man closer. He kisses Jinyoung’s eyes, the tip of his nose and finally the corner of his lips. Jinyoung squirms and squeezes his eyes shut from the ticklish feeling. When he opens them again, Jaebum’s looking at him with starry eyes full of love and adoration, nothing different from the way he used to look at Jinyoung ten years ago.

 

“So, boyfriend? Again?” Jinyoung leans his forehead against Jaebum’s. Jaebum grins. This time, it’s not sad, it’s not giving up, it’s not letting Jinyoung go. This time, it’s happy, it’s hopeful, it’s believing in Jinyoung.

 

“Maybe.” Jaebum teases like the asshole he is.

 

It’s not exactly the perfect _okay_ Jinyoung wants, but it’s still more than a million times better than a _no_.

 

***

 

When the two of them finally leave the waiting room after an embarrassingly long time, Jinyoung finds a yellow sticky note on the floor.

 

It reads: ‘ _You’re so fucking lucky I covered your stupid, dramatic ass. You better thank me properly for this, Park. I’ll be expecting this city’s most expensive fruit basket —Doyoung_ ’ and ends with a rather menacing smiley face. Jaebum curiously peeks over his shoulder to read it and flushes bright red when he sees the message. Jinyoung laughs at him and Jaebum slaps playfully at his bicep.

 

Jinyoung sends Doyoung three different fruit assortments the next morning after waking up to Jaebum curled warmly into his side, one leg thrown over Jinyoung’s and burrowing his face further into Jinyoung’s neck as the cold of winter seeps into Jinyoung’s bedroom, sleeping peacefully.

 

***

 

Jinyoung opens his eyes. Tonight, the stars twinkle over him, the moon shines through clouds, and the ocean is no longer at war with itself. It’s still and peaceful, so still the moon can reflect of its surface like a mirror image.

 

A pebble hits the water, causing a slight ripple to pass through, but it disappears faster than it appears. The breeze is pleasant. Jinyoung sits with his legs crossed and arms on either side of his body, as he leans up to admire the beauty of the stars and constellations. There’s a smile on his face.

 

“Hey.” A body walks up to him, sitting down next to Jinyoung. Jinyoung resists the urge to turn around and stare at the man, he already knows who he is anyways.

 

“Hey,” he replies, patting the spot next to him on the soft sand, “join me?”

 

“Yeah.” A body settles down on where Jinyoung indicated, and Jinyoung feels a hand settle on top of his own, he lets his hand be wrangled until their fingers are interlaced. “It’s beautiful out here tonight.”

 

“Yeah.” Jinyoung finally turns his head down to look at the man relaxing against his body, and is immediately captured by the same night-sky stars and constellations he adores in Jaebum’s eyes. But compared to the dark of the night sky, the twinkle and shine of the stars in the velvety black of Jaebum’s eyes seem to glow much brighter, they seem much harder to diminish.

 

And Jinyoung knows. Knows that Jaebum can see the same hope and sparkle reflected in Jinyoung’s own eyes. Knows that Jaebum knows that Jinyoung can see it too.

 

“I love you,” his voice is so quiet, the words uttered are closer to silence than a whisper, but Jinyoung’s sure Jaebum heard him, and sees the infinite love in Jinyoung’s eyes, in his entire demeanor, and returns it. Jinyoung doesn’t need Jaebum to say the words back to understand how Jaebum feels, because he _knows_.

 

Either way, what they know and don’t know doesn’t stop Jaebum from mouthing the words back and surging forward to meet Jinyoung halfway for a kiss, as the moon smiles down on them and the twinkles in the dark sky shine brighter and the tides lap soothingly against their toes. Jaebum’s words fall deaf to the sound of the sea lulling itself to sleep, but Jinyoung hears every syllable loud and clear, can feel it deep in his bones, can feel it vibrating in his very soul.

 

“ _I love you, too._ ”

 

Jinyoung grins into the kiss, and feels Jaebum mirror his actions. They both know, and that’s really it, isn’t it?

 

the end.

**Author's Note:**

> so um yah how was that ??? leave kudos and comment pls :D  
> yes i know trauma was written by youngjae but i didnt know what other song that was suitable so sry  
> and yeah the ending was kinda rushed but it was either post it or delete it and i didnt want to delete sth i spent 6 months working on you feel me  
> also stream got7s amazing lullaby mv bc these kings fkn snapped and Slapped this cb lets not flop them: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9RUeTYiJCyA  
> (yall this is tragic idk how to hyperlink alexa play lullaby spanish ver.)  
> also my twitter (if yall wanna fangirl hmu/im also lookin for sum mutuals): @igot7eyesonyou  
> [ https://twitter.com/jyjbi ]  
> tumblr: @jjeungri  
> [ jjeungri.tumblr.com ]  
> another also, ive alr written half of a 20~40k got7 7 deadly sins au fic !!! (not the anime lol) so yah thatll be up soon i hope (?) the original concept for the fanfic can be found here:  
> https://twitter.com/igot7eyesonyou/status/1031843579562344448  
> also mafia au and vampire au coming along soon trust  
> i know one (1) ahgase irl pls i just wanna talk got7 to sum more ppl bc the world rly b sleepin on these beautiful men what fools what cowards  
> lmao thats that - if you see any grammar/english/spelling errors: constructive criticism is vvv welcome !!! but other than that i gotta skedaddle i hve to be up in 6 hrs lmao y i gotta do myself like this i cri
> 
> (ps. yall i worked out the second and last code to the got7 star meme chat by 1thek but by the time i worked it out and tried i had ran out of tries on code 1 and i legit sobbed im still kinda crying i need a hug)
> 
> (pss? pps? idek anymore lmao: might come back later when more coherent to add tags)


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